From Yesterday, From Today
by Unoriginality
Summary: It's Bucky's ninety-nineth birthday, and his friends want to throw him a party. He's not quite as enthusiastic as they are. (A BTWWL fic)


A/N: I had to fudge some things. Technically, Steve and Bucky both should've been declared KIA instead of MIA in the sixties some time, along with the other MIA vets. This... did not happen. So since they were never declared KIA, the Barnes family would not have been able to get Steve and Bucky's medals to put in that shadowbox. I think they'd get the flags, though.

One other note: technically, voluntary enlistment was over by the time Steve enlisted. The Army was tired of the other branches taking all the volunteers, so they closed enlistment and instated the draft. Bucky would've had no choice but to be drafted and Steve wouldn't have been able to enlist at all. So I'm attempting to go with Marvel's canon, despite it making no historical sense.

This fic is dedicated to Monty Oum of Rooster Teeth. Godspeed, Monty. You'll be missed.

* * *

Steve sighed. "Tony, I don't know about this. Bucky doesn't like being reminded of his age any more than I do."

"Yeah, but he's ninety-nine," Tony protested, sipping his vodka, kicked back on one of the couches in the Avengers penthouse.

Steve looked out the window, at the darkened sky. Bucky was at the shelter, volunteering that night, and good timing; Tony wanted to plan a last minute birthday party for Bucky. Easier to do when the birthday boy wasn't around to overhear the plans and cut them off at the pass.

"It's a good idea," Sharon said from her perch on the edge of the table. "It doesn't have to be anything elaborate, just a cake and enough candles to make it collapse under their weight." She gave him a perky grin that almost made him want to do horrible things to her, and not of the fun variety.

"Just remember, you're dating someone only a year younger than that," he said.

"You age well," she said, wrinkling her nose at him.

Bruce cleared his throat, drawing the attention of the other Avengers. "I hate to join Cap in the party pooper corner, but maybe we should respect Bucky's wishes."

"I already have Thor on his way to La Guardia," Tony protested. "I can't have dragged him away from his girl and his country across the Atlantic for no party." When Steve gave him an aggravated look, Tony sat forward, raising his glass in protest. "It doesn't have to be big! We won't even make issue of his age. No candle jokes, no 'over the hill' stickers or cards or balloons, just a regular old party with his new family. We'll save all that for when he hits the century mark next year."

Steve almost told Tony 'no' for the third time that evening when something Tony said sank in. 'Family.' "Actually, Tony, I think Bucky would rather spend the day with the last of his old family."

"Peter? I can have him brought up with a bow on his head," Tony said. "I know Bucky said he didn't really want to mix Peter with the Avengers, but that was Christmas. There's two days to Christmas, twelve if you believe the song. But there's only one birthday. It's not like he has to balance coming up here with celebrating with all the other generations that the Barnes family spawned."

Steve looked at Bruce for support.

Bruce held up his hands. "I think Tony may actually have a point on this one. Bucky's brother might appreciate getting to see that Bucky will be well taken care of once old age claims him and Bucky's left with just us. And we'll be nice."

Steve looked at Maria briefly, but knew he'd get no help from her. She tended to stay out of these things, and now that she was tentatively dating Bucky- very tentatively -she might actually be onboard with the idea of a party for him. Natasha and Clint were being of absolutely no help, and no input, probably on purpose to watch Steve try to argue in circles with Tony. So, seeing no way out of calling defeat, he sighed deeply. "All right. I'll call Peter. It's not like I was going to win anyway, you have Thor in the air already."

"Glad you see things my way," Tony said. "So what kind of party theme should we have? I promise, no 'over the hill' jokes."

Steve had to squash the sudden dirty joke that just popped into his head. Bucky might have found it funny, but it involved Maria's name, and Steve wasn't so sure she might not have done something to get back at him. He had a feeling that her kind of revenge would not be very enjoyable.

So he shoved that aside and turned his mind back to Tony's question. "I really don't know. Nothing related to work, that much I can tell you."

"I didn't plan on having a Winter Soldier themed party, Cap," Tony said. "What about a nostalgia theme? I've seen them done for the older folk in the business world, people decorate in stuff that was big when the birthday person was born, or around the time they grew up. You guys grew up during the Prohibition, right? We could set up a speakeasy, get the girls in flapper dresses."

"We were pretty young in the twenties," Steve said. "Too young for speakeasies to be a thing that were terribly important to us."

"How much do we wanna avoid the thirties?" Tony asked. "I know the Depression was pretty rough, probably not the best memories there."

"High school graduation was '35, then he went to MIT." Steve tilted his head back, thinking. "Late thirties, early forties were good times for us. Spent a lot of that time separated because of college, but it was before he got drafted and I enslited."

"I thought he said he enlisted," Tony said.

"His records say otherwise," Natasha said, finally speaking up.

Maria propped her chin on her fist, studying Steve hard enough that he was forced to look at her. "He said he had told you that he had enlisted."

Steve eyed her. "He actually admitted he was drafted to you? You stand a good chance with him." He shook his head. "I don't know why he lied, but I knew he did after I heard him reciting his serial number in Zola's lab. If he'd enlisted in New York, it would've started with a twelve. It didn't. Bucky was drafted."

"He didn't want to disappoint you," Maria said. "He thought you'd think less of him for not enlisting while you were trying to get in."

Steve didn't know if he wanted to whack Bucky upside the head, or hug the dumb jerk. "He's an idiot. I knew he never wanted to go to war. He didn't like the idea of having to look someone in the eye and pull the trigger on them."

"And he ended up a sniper," Bruce said, sounding rather sad. "War does awful things to people."

Steve walked away from the window to join his friends on the couches. "He became a sniper to protect me. He'd been just a regular soldier before that."

Tony took a drink of his vodka. "And now you see why everyone here is jealous of you two. None of us grew up with someone who'd completely rewrite their moral code to protect us."

"I know," Steve said, sitting next to the corner of the table Sharon was sitting on. "Believe me, we're both pretty aware of how lucky we are." He eyed Tony's vodka, wishing a glass would do anything to chase away the past for him. "But we're getting way off track. If you want to do a themed party, the early forties are the way to go. Although, personally, I think I'd save the trip back into the past for next year. A century mark is a bigger thing than just shy."

Tony made a thoughtful noise. "You're probably right on that. Give me more time to research that time period, get some good stuff in. If we weren't doing this last minute, I'd be inclined to just jump the gun a year early. It's a good idea. Okay." He set his empty glass down on the table. "So it's got to be something we can pull together in a day and a half. You know, it's too bad he's the one that cooks, otherwise I'd suggest a feast and the best cake ever made. But I'm not going to make him cook his own birthday dinner and cake."

"And you can't possibly find some place that can cater to appetites as big as the Avengers on such short notice," Pepper said, patting his arm. "I know you want an excuse to eat his cooking again, but you might have to wait for your birthday."

"Bah," Tony said. "I'll just make him invite us over again."

"I would give him advanced notice," Maria said. "He's teaching me to cook, you don't want to chance your dinner date being lesson night. I don't have his knack for it yet."

Pepper smiled at her. "I'm sure you're doing fine," she said. "But we wouldn't interrupt your routine just to invite ourselves to his apartment for dinner. If we had that many people around, I would suggest another dinner party for the Avengers as a group."

"Bucky would probably like to do that for his birthday, actually," Steve said. "He'd feel happier giving you guys something."

"He doesn't cook his own birthday meal," Tony said firmly. He looked at Pepper. "I will leave finding a good catering service for the day after tomorrow to you. You're good at that kind of stuff."

"That's because that's the kind of work you always shoved off onto me when you were CEO," she said, sounding like this was an old routine of picking on each other for them. "But all right. What kind of food does he like, Steve?" She looked at Steve.

"Italian," Steve said. "I'm not a fan, so he doesn't make it often."

Tony stared at him. "You don't like Italian? Who doesn't like Italian? Italian makes the world go 'round."

"I don't," Steve said. "I just said that. But it's Bucky's birthday, we're not going to worry about my dietary preferences. As long as nobody here has food allergies that would prevent us from having it, that's what matters."

"I think I'm the only one allergic to any food," Pepper said. "And I'm pretty sure that Italian food doesn't make extensive use of strawberries."

"Done," Tony said. He looked out the window, then at his watch. "Pepper, why don't you get on finding a catering service? Cap, put in a call to Bucky's brother, tell him to clear his schedule."

While Pepper stepped away from the group to make her calls in some modicum of quiet, Steve pulled his phone out of his pocket. "What time should we have him up here? It's a bit of a drive."

"Here by five," Tony said. "I'll have him picked up so he's not looking for parking around here."

Steve made an acknowledging noise, hitting dial on Peter's number. He got up and walked back over to the windows. The ground outside was slushy from a snow the day before. The temperature had gotten up into the forties that day, melting much of it, but temps had gone down again as the sun set. Steve hoped all that melted slush wouldn't turn to ice overnight. It'd be hell on Bucky and the other guys out there if it did.

"Hello, Bucky," Peter's voice said in his ear.

"It's me, Peter," Steve said. "Your brother's at the shelter right now."

"Hi, Steve. You're up to something," Peter said. "You're calling me when he's not there, and it's almost his birthday. I take it I'm involved in something?"

Steve smiled, glancing back at the others. "How would you like to come up to the Tower on your brother's birthday and meet the Avengers?"

Peter sounded like his brain was somewhere between a fan's excitement and an old man who was too tired for that shit. "I thought it was Bucky's birthday, not mine. But whatever you're planning, I'm there."

"Tony's planning a dinner with cake, nothing fancy. I don't think God himself could keep Tony from going all out next year, but the last minute thing kept him in check this year."

"That's just as well," Peter said. "I don't think my brother likes to be reminded of his age at this point." Before Steve could confirm that, Peter sighed, his tone going from joy to something odd, something quieter. "I have something that belongs to him that I'd like to get to him, anyway. And something of yours while I'm at it."

The tone of voice that sounded like Bucky's when he started taking an unhappy trip into the past made Steve frown and turn away from the others again. "What is it?"

"You'll see on Thursday," Peter said. "What time should I get there?"

"Party's at five. Tony's going to send someone to pick you up so you're not fighting for long-term parking in Manhattan on a Thurday evening. So you can expect someone around one thirty or so."

"Make it one," Tony said. "Account for traffic."

Steve glanced back over at him, then turned back to the phone. "Did you hear that, by any chance?"

"Mister Stark has a loud voice," Peter said. "I heard it. I'll be ready. I'm retired, I have nothing to cancel anyway."

"You need a job," Steve said. "You sound bored, and you're a Barnes man. Barnes men get into trouble when they get bored."

Peter laughed. "We Barnes men find trouble whether we're bored or not. It's more a matter of if we go looking for that trouble, or that trouble finds us. I'll be ready by one. I'd have you say hi to my brother for me in the meantime, but I suspect we don't want him knowing about this, I'm not about to be the one to give it away. And you can't lie for beans, I'm not going to ask you to come up with a reason as to why you were talking to me."

Steve breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you," he said. "We'll see you on Thursday."

"Thursday," Peter confirmed, and once they'd said their good byes, he hung up.

Steve turned and pointed at Tony with his phone. "Peter says you have a loud voice."

Before Tony could act indignant, Bruce cut in with a chuckle. "He does. He's done a lot of presentations and shows, you learn to project your voice."

Tony nodded in Bruce's direction. "Thank you, Doctor Banner. And you have no room to talk on that one, Cap."

"Either way, he heard you," Steve said. "He'll be expecting your driver at one."

Sharon stood up and walked over to him. "What was it that he said that had you sounding concerened?"

Steve looked at her, then at the phone, then put the phone away in his pocket and put an arm around her shoulders. "He just said he has something for us. He had a weird tone about it. Dunno what it is, but he says it was ours to begin with, so probably something from before the war."

Tony got up, heading to the bar to refill his glass. Or maybe put it in the sink. He quickly proved it was to get a refill. "So we have the lot of us, that's-" he paused, setting aside the bottle of vodka and counting the people in the room, "-nine, once Thor gets here. Then ten with Peter. Hey, think we should invite the flying man?"

"Who, Sam?" Steve asked. At Tony's nod of confirmation, Steve tilted his head, considering that. "It'd probably be nice. He and Bucky haven't had much of a chance beyond some phone conversations to really get to know each other. A visit might help that. And I'd like to see him, it's been awhile since we darkened each other's doorsteps." He glanced at Natasha. "What about you? It's been awhile since you've seen him."

Natasha shrugged, hiding a smile behind her glass. "Might be fun to heckle him for being slower than you for awhile."

Clint looked at her, then at Steve. "Okay, I missed a story while I was out in the sands. Who's Sam?"

"He's one of the guys that helped us take out Hydra's helicarriers," Natasha said. "Code name Falcon. I've mentioned him."

Clint stared at her a moment. "Oh, Wilson? Okay, following now. What's with the slow joke? That one I _know_ I missed."

Steve fought back a laugh, but couldn't hide the amused grin on his face. "I run faster than him during morning runs. He wasn't impressed with being lapped so many times."

Pepper rejoined them, taking her previous spot on one of the couches, next to where Tony had been sitting. "I have a caterer. Unfortunately, it's too late to get a cake completely customized, but there's a bakery down on east 138th that can do something a bit personalized without looking like we got it from a grocery store bakery. I'll stop there tomorrow."

"Excellent," Tony said, rejoining her. "You're a goddess among women." He pointed at Cap. "Call Sam, let's make sure everyone's going to be here."

Once again, Steve was forced to rescue his phone from his pocket. He knew Bucky wasn't going to be entirely happy with a party, but as Tony had inadvertently pointed out, it was only a dozen of them, if Sam showed up, and that wasn't that many. Bucky's family had been half that, counting Steve, and he'd had more friends as a kid. He'd had bigger parties.

"Hey man, what's up?" Sam asked upon answering.

"The sky," Steve said. "You always ask that."

Sam made a noise that said he wanted to reach through the phone and strangle him while laughing the whole time. "One of these days, I'll learn. But no, seriously, it's about dinner time, you don't call until later."

"Bucky's birthday is on Thursday, Tony's throwing a little party. You got an invitation."

Sam was silent a moment. "So, a chance to party with my friends, _and_ meet the Avengers, all at once? You know I'm there. I'm off that day anyway."

"Good," Steve said, then glanced briefly at Tony. "Tony's sending someone to pick up Peter so he can avoid looking for long-term parking in Manhattan in the evening. Party starts at five. Want me to have him make his driver stop earlier to pick you up, too?"

"If parking weren't a thing, I'd say I could drive myself, but you make a point. Yeah, if he can spare the extra hour or so of driving. That'd put me leaving around what, noon?"

Steve looked at Tony one more time for confirmation that the driver would be there; Tony nodded, waving him off with one hand before taking a drink of his vodka. "Yeah, noon. The driver's picking Peter up at one, that gives you both a little time to account for traffic."

"Which can be hell," Sam said. "I'll be ready and waiting. You guys still working on planning?"

"We're done for the most part," Steve said. "Pepper hired a catering company a little bit ago. We're having Italian."

"By Italian, you don't mean pizza, right?" Sam asked. "And I thought you didn't like Italian."

"No, no pizza, and no, I don't," Steve said. "But Bucky does, and it's his birthday, not mine. It's nothing big, just dinner and a cake. But all the Avengers are here for the moment. Thor will be in tonight sometime. So you can expect there to be a lot of food."

"My favorite," Sam said. "I'll be ready and waiting for that driver. Hate to get an invite and run, but my oven timer just told me that my meatloaf is ready."

Steve couldn't help a grin. "Go get your food, Sam. We'll see you on Thursday." They said good bye and hung up. "He's coming," Steve confirmed. Before putting his phone away, he looked at Tony. "I'm not calling anyone else, am I?"

Tony made a show of thinking, sniffing once and moving his jaw slightly like he was trying to say something without opening his mouth. "No, you're good," he said after Steve had counted off five seconds.

"So it's a little last minute for gifts," Natasha said, "but any ideas?"

"Show up and don't make fun of his age," Steve said. "Bucky doesn't really like getting presents. I don't even know what to get him."

Natasha looked thoughtful. "In the spirit of our time in Nebraska, how about the newest _Game Of Thrones_ book?"

Steve raised an eyebrow. "What, _Winds Of Winter_? He bought that on his tablet already."

Clint got up and headed to the bar. "Hasn't anyone ever told him he's not supposed to get himself shit until after gift-giving occasions are over?" He looked at Natasha, holding up a beer. "Nat, you want one?"

She held out her hand. "Gimme."

"Please," Clint said, grabbing a second one and heading back over to his spot by her. "Your manners leave something to be desired."

Natasha gave him a sweet smile that didn't belong on her face. "Everything about me is to be desired. Although, hey, Hill-"

Maria shook her head, giving Natasha a side-long look. "Whatever you're about to suggest, don't. We've had two dates, he doesn't get that yet."

Well, at least it wasn't Steve that brought it up.

"Who says even one date is a prerequisite?" Clint said, taking a sip of his beer.

Maria grabbed her glass of orange juice. "If I want something that will last, I do. Casual sex and long-term relationships don't tend to work together in my world."

"They can be difficult to manage," Tony agreed. "Try for the long term." He looked at Pepper. "Sometimes it's worth it."

The smile Pepper gave him was warm, reminded Steve of the smiles Sharon would give him, the smiles Peggy used to, like a sunrise meant only for one person. "You're a suck up."

"I am also honest," Tony said. "But, all right, back on topic. No presents? He's no fun. Although!" He took one last drink of his vodka and set the empty glass down. "Speaking of presents, has he told you anything about how those tools you got him are working? The guys up on the third R&amp;D floor are jealous of them."

Steve didn't bother hiding the smile that gave him. "He's mentioned it a time or two that they're helpful, but that's it. Glad to hear they're working for him."

"The man's a genius," Tony said. "Not on par with me, of course, but he knows his way around chemistry and engineering. Bruce is corrupting him into biochemistry a bit. He doesn't give you these updates, does he?"

Steve shrugged. "To some extent. He doesn't brag. I think he knows the science is kind of lost on me. I'm good at using technology, the inner workings of it is a mystery to me."

"I don't think you're giving yourself enough credit," Tony said. "You catch on quick. But it's not your area. It's not for everyone. I can't tell sea green from mint green to save my life. You can." He shrugged, and eyed his empty glass. "Okay, time for something without alcohol. I'm giving out compliments at my detriment."

Sharon ducked out of Steve's arm grip, heading for the bar. "Speaking of something to drink, I want something," she said. She looked at Steve. "A Coke for you?"

Before Steve could answer, Tony looked over his shoulder at her. "Me too?" He held up his empty glass. "I'll give you two the honeymoon suite at Four Seasons if you do."

Sharon stopped halfway to the bar, and then shook her head, walking over to Tony with a smile on her face. "We'll take a rain check on that, but since you asked so nice, I'll take your glass for you." He handed her his glass, and she took it over to the bar, dumping it in the sink and pulling two cans of Coke out of the mini-fridge. She grabbed a third can, a Mountain Dew, squished it between her forearm and her chest, and walked back into the main area. She handed Tony his Coke with a "one for you," and then gave Steve his with a "and one for you." She freed her soda from under her arm. "These are cold."

"Would you rather they be warm?" Natasha asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I would prefer to not freeze my tit carrying one," Sharon said and Steve almost spit out his drink, choking on it instead. She looked up at him at the distressed sounds he was making. "Swallow, dear. Then laugh."

Natasha burst into laughter. "I think Sharon just got you back for me for making me choke on those dumplings."

Steve shot her a dirty look, still coughing. "That wasn't my fault," he croaked out, then cleared his throat. "I was keeping you from making that joke with the nicest thing I could possibly say on the subject."

"I think that's most people's opinion on it," Natasha said, downing a swallow of beer. "It's either make a joke, or rage incoherently."

Clint looked between Steve and Natasha. "Okay, another reference I missed."

"I think we all missed this one," Bruce said, joining Clint in his study of the two people speaking what was probably moonspeak to the others.

Natasha motioned to Steve. "He was a Catholic choir boy growing up. He made the 'I wasn't left alone around a priest' joke for me. Made me choke on my chicken and noodles."

It was Tony's turn to choke on his soda, hacking like he'd inhaled the entire can into his lungs. He coughed a few times, red-faced, and then clearly started trying to laugh without making himself die in the process. "Okay, had not known you were in the choir. Maybe you should lead us in 'Happy Birthday' on Thursday."

In the name of not getting named Entertainer Of The Avengers, Steve decided to head that one off at the pass. "Tony, my voice has dropped an octave or so since I was in choir," he said. "I'm not sure what I learned then will apply now."

"What, you don't think you could hit the high notes anymore?" Tony said. He looked like he wanted to say more, but was debating if he'd get away with it or not.

"Tony? Whatever you're wanting to add, keep it to yourself," Steve said. "I'll even ask nicely. Please."

"Well-" Tony said, not immediately committing to not being a jackass, then shrugged. "Okay. You asked politely. I'll refrain."

"So how are we going to keep the birthday boy from finding out what's going on until Thursday?" Natasha asked. "I've seen you lie, Steve, you're terrible at it."

Steve resisted the urge to look over at Tony and Pepper, knowing he was probably getting a cold look from both and not wanting to see it, lest he react to it, and the mess come out where the others would have to get involved. "I'll just not mention it, I guess," he said. "If he asks about it, we're screwed, but as long as he doesen't think to ask, I won't bring it up."

That probably didn't help the chilliness he was picking up from Tony and Pepper, but at least he was being honest _this_ time.

"And with his birthday right around the corner, he's not going to think to ask what you might have planned?" Maria asked, sounding and looking incredulous. "That seems a stretch, with as well as he knows you. I think he'd be surprised if you weren't at least planning to get him a cake and a card."

Damn. She made a good point. Steve frowned, trying to think of a way out of that mess before it became a mess to get out of.

Sharon saved the day for him. "He's working overnight tonight, which means he'll sleep most of tomorrow. I can just drag Steve out for a date around the time Bucky would get up, minimize how much time they're around each other for the beans to be spilled."

"Perfect," Tony said. "Now, the food and cake and our two guests of honor won't get here until five on Thursday, so we've got all day to keep things quiet."

"Uh, Tony? You have Thor showing up at midnight," Bruce pointed out. "It's going to be hard to keep things quiet even tomorrow, if he finds out Thor's here. It's a big building, yes, but we Avengers tend to congregate in one area, they're bound to run into each other, unless you wanna tell Thor he's not allowed to leave his room."

Tony looked stumped. "Okay, you have a point. He doesn't happen to work tomorrow night too, does he?" He looked at Steve.

Steve shook his head. "No. Jennie wouldn't schedule him in a way that had him sleeping through most of his birthday. I don't know if he tried to argue with her on the subject or not, but she flat out told him he was to enjoy his day and not worry about watching a bunch of guys sleep all night."

"That job sounds so glamorous," Tony said, practically drooling sarcasm.

"I've had worse," Natasha said. "Anyone in the business has. At least it's a potentially quiet job."

"Medical work isn't exactly pretty, either," Bruce said. "Especially not in a third world country where proper hygiene isn't practiced, and sanitation is minimal."

Tony looked at Natasha, then at Bruce, then over at Steve. "You all are so noble. You make me look bad."

Natasha shook her head. "I'm not," she said. "I just said I've had less pleasant jobs, not that they were charitable."

"Feeling better," Tony said. He emptied his can- Steve wondered just how much Tony could drink before he had to slosh his way to the bathroom -and set it down with a clang. "Okay, it's past dinner time, who wants take out? My treat."

"As long as you don't order pizza," Steve said. "If you do, I'll just go treat myself to something I can cook."

"No pizza," Tony said. "There's a great Korean BBQ place that delivers. Sound good?" When nobody protested and there was a general noise of agreement, Tony stood. "That settles it. JARVIS, get us menus for BarKogi."

* * *

Bucky had gotten in that morning around nine-thirty, a tiny bit earlier than normal, so he woke up earlier in the afternoon than he typically did on days after a shift at the shelter. He heard sounds of Sharon in the apartment when he got up, and stopped to dress into regular clothes, instead of shuffling around in his sleep wear. When/if she and Steve got married, then she was going to be subjected to the comforts of home, but as long as she was a guest, he wasn't going to wander around her in his PJs.

So after changing and taking a pit stop in the bathroom, he headed into the living area to see Steve sitting up, playing the Wii U that Sam had given them for Christmas with clear instructions that they were to use the thing instead of reading all the time. He couldn't see Sharon, but he could hear her giggling like an evil pixie from the couch. Bucky suspected she was using Steve's leg as a pillow.

"Sharo- Sharon- damnit, Sharon, you wanna- stop. Sharon, stop," Steve did not sound terribly happy. Bucky studied the game for a second, watching as Mario tried to jump from one part of the scenery to another, only to run into blocks that were appearing and disappearing. Sharon continued to giggle. "Sharon- damnit, Sharon!" Mario fell down a pit. Steve looked down, confirming Bucky's suspicion that she was lying next to him. "You're a bad person and you should feel bad."

"I was helping!" she protested, not at all trying to hide how much she was actually laughing at his expense.

"Yeah, helping me die," Steve grumped at her. He glanced back in the direction of the bedrooms, spotting Bucky, who was hanging back between the hall and the couches. "Oh, hey, Buck. Come here and take the Wii U tablet from her, please. I've gone through more continues trying to survive her than I ever do with you."

"Then I'm doing something wrong," Bucky said, walking down to lean on the couch behind Steve. He looked down at Sharon. "I'd say teach me your ways, but I think Steve's head might explode if we both hindered him in this game as much as you were."

She held up the Wii U tablet. "Here, take this. I'm stealing your bathroom." She rolled off the couch and got to her feet, heading back to the bathroom.

Bucky planted himself on the other couch. "So how many continues has she made you go through?"

"Ten," Steve said, scowling as he selected to continue and restart the level he'd died in. "Make me use one on this level and you're dog food."

Bucky held up his hands, the game tablet on his lap. "I won't touch it," he said. "Not even when you actually need me to."

"You both are bad people," Steve said. He looked at his watch. "But actually, Sharon and I were about to go out for dinner."

Bucky looked at the clock. "It's only four-thirty," he said, then looked back at Steve. "It's kinda early for dinner. And you were just about to start playing again."

Steve turned off the game machine and the TV. "If we want to catch a show that will let out sooner than midnight, we need to get dinner early," he said. "Besides, if we wait until the dinner hour, it's going to be a nightmare trying to get anywhere. We were just killing time until you woke up so we could let you know where we were going to be."

Unable to argue the logic, Bucky shrugged, although something about the way Steve was talking made him suspicious. He sounded nervous, like he was hiding something, but Bucky couldn't pinpoint what it would be. He'd have to search the apartment for bombs later. "What time you planning on being back?"

"Dunno," Steve said. "Might be late."

How he said that was also suspicious, but again, Bucky couldn't figure out why. "Call when you figure it out, or else I'll have to assume that either A- you ran into trouble and I want in on it, or B- you decided to stay at a hotel, in which case, I want no part of it."

Steve gave him an insulted look. "You know I'd invite you to trouble if we find any. And you also know that the shared hotel room thing isn't happening except in case of emergency until much later."

Bucky shrugged. "You never know," he said. "Just don't make me stay up late worrying."

"Yes, dear."

Sharon rejoined them a minute later, and she and Steve headed out with a wave and a good bye, leaving Bucky alone. He didn't mind, although he still wasn't used to it, but something about the whole exchange and their rush out the door made him think something was wrong. He didn't like sitting there in the apartment with nothing to keep him company but the puzzle of what just happened, why, and a feeling of suddenly being unwelcome. That was stupid, but something about the way Steve was talking and how fast they left once he was up made him think that they were avoiding him.

He wanted a drink.

Bucky pulled on his boots, and paused by the door. If he was going to stay up in the penthouse and have a drink, he'd be better off having something to occupy his mind with except Steve's weird behavior, or else he'd start brooding and coming up with all sorts of nonsense, and none of that would be the alcohol's fault. So he grabbed his sketchbook full of chemical compounds and engineering designs, and a pencil, and headed out to the elevators.

The penthouse wasn't empty when he got there, and he wasn't sure if he expected it to be or not. It wasn't the fact that it wasn't empty that caught his attention as much as who was up there.

"Thor? What the hell are you doing here?" he asked, walking in and dropping his book and pencil on a table.

Thor, sitting on one of the couches near to the spot Bucky had claimed, paused with his bottle of beer inches from his lips. He glanced back towards Tony, who was behind the bar, mixing himself a drink. Thor apparently decided to take that drink he was in the middle of before answering. "I cannot visit my friends?" he asked.

"Didn't say that," Bucky said, walking around the bar counter and grabbing a beer from the mini-fridge. "I just didn't know you were going to be in town."

Tony watched him. "I flew him in last night. Decided I missed his wonderful company. I didn't realize I had to clear that with you."

Bucky stopped with his bottle cap in one hand and the bottle opener in the other, and gave Tony a look. That was a bit of an aggressive statement. "I didn't say that either," he snapped. "I just thought that if we were having an out-of-country friend flying in for a visit, we all would've been told about it." Then he looked between the two of them, Thor looking vaguely guilty and Tony staying stoic faced, and got that same suspicious feeling in his gut that he had earlier at Steve's odd behavior.

Something was going on, and he had a feeling it should be obvious, but for some reason, what that something could be was eluding him. He watched them as he went back to his spot with his beer. They watched him right back, Thor taking a sip of his beer and Tony clinking glasses around as he finished mixing his drink.

"What is that book?" Thor asked, pointing at Bucky's sketchbook with his bottle. "I thought it was the captain that was the artist."

"He is," Bucky said, setting down his beer and curling up on the couch, legs crossed under him. He grabbed his sketchbook and pencil. "I'm a chemical engineer, my job is to come up with new and exciting ways that chemistry can be used in technology. Putting it simply. I started as a weapons designer, but Stark Industries got out of that business, so I just work in general. I'm not a Stark employee, but I tool around with Bruce and Tony. These are just design notes and stuff."

"An interesting hobby to have," Thor said. "What sort of designs are you working on right now?"

"Probably whatever Bruce has him on right now," Tony said in answer, walking over to the chairs and couches with his drink. "He's pulled you into pharmaceuticals lately."

"He has," Bucky said. "But this isn't something I'm working on with him. This is my book of ideas for things your company doesn't make anymore."

Tony sat down in a chair. "Anything of interest? Something JARVIS and I can make for you and Cap in the field?"

Bucky shook his head. "Not this. Right now, I'm playing with the Riemann hypothesis of energy production. I started it to see if it could be solved to make sure it couldn't be used as a weapon, but now I'm kinda trying to see if it's possible."

Tony raised an eyebrow. "The Riemann hypothesis of energy production? I thought I already solved that with the arc reactors."

"What is the Riemann hypothesis?" Thor asked.

Bucky looked up at him, then at Tony, then back at Thor. "It's an as-of-yet unsolved mathematical problem. Mathematicians have been trying to solve it since it was proposed in 1859. It's..." He frowned, tapping a metal finger on his notebook. "I don't know how to explain it to someone without an understanding of at least basic calculus, but it's considered the most important unsolved problem in mathematics. We've been trying to solve it for the last hundred and fifty some odd years."

Thor looked like he was taking that information in. "And what you are working on is similar?"

"Insomuch as that it's a problem we haven't solved yet and have been trying for a long time, yes. And if we could solve it, energy production would be changed pretty much forever." Then Bucky looked at Tony. "The arc reactors are good, but they're not as efficient as a matter/anti-matter reaction would be if we could figure out how to produce antimatter efficiently and contain it until we need the reaction."

Tony's other eyebrow joined the first up around his hairline. "You're working on positron production? That's kind of high reaching."

Bucky shrugged. "That's why I compared it to the Riemann hypothesis. It's just something to keep me busy when I'm annoyed."

"And why are we annoyed today?" Tony asked, his tone implying that he thought Bucky was always annoyed.

Which was annoying by itself.

"Steve was acting weird when I got up, that's all," he said. "I got up and he practically ran out the door with Sharon."

Tony reached over and patted his shoulder. "Relax, he was probably just eager to get to where he could molest her without you as an audience." At Bucky's side eye look, he raised a hand in surrender. "Okay, not molest, you're right, I know Cap better than that. But he might've just wanted time with just her but didn't want to disappear until you got up so you didn't wake up to an empty apartment. I'd think that'd be roommate courtesy."

Bucky sat back, staring down at his page full of calculations and positron containment designs, then sighed. "Yeah, I know. He just sounded weird when he left. Anyway, I've already committed my brain to working on this problem for awhile, so I'm stuck."

Tony held out his hand. "Mind if I see what you have?"

"Go ahead." Bucky handed over the book.

Tony studied the page, then flipped back a couple pages, then back to the page Bucky had open. "You've been doing this one for awhile."

"I get annoyed easily," Bucky said, not entirely serious. "At least, I get frustrated with the problems I run into with what we're working on as a group, and take it out on this problem for awhile."

"You pick a problem impossible to solve as a way of relieving stress from not being able to solve a problem that _is_ possible to solve?" Tony asked, looking up and handing the book back over. "You do things backwards."

"I do not think it is all that backwards," Thor said. "When I am unable to defeat a foe because I am not allowed to yet, I will find a friend to practice with- I will never be able to defeat a friend, because I will not want to."

Tony stared at him like he'd lost his mind. "What?"

"I get what he's saying," Bucky said. "When Steve gets mad about Hydra, he goes and takes it out on a punching bag for awhile. When we run into Hydra agents, he _can_ pull them apart easily, but until he can, he goes after something else that he can't- well, no, he can rip apart punching bags pretty easily, but they're not something to defeat, just hit a lot."

"Okay, that makes sense," Tony said with a nod of his head. "So the matter/anti-matter problem is your punching bag?"

"Something like that," Bucky said, doodling a bit in the margins of his page.

"You know, if you can solve that, you'll render my arc reactors obsolete," Tony said. "And I'm not sure I'd like you for that."

Bucky chuckled and glanced over at him. "It's going to be solved someday. Wouldn't you rather it be someone who's going to give the designs to you to keep Stark Industries ahead of the game?"

"Naturally," Tony said. "But I won't be impressed by someone beating me to the answer."

"Not even if it's a friend?" Bucky asked. "If you want to get the problem solved first, then you need to get to work."

Tony shook his head. "No. Honestly, with how long the military's had its eye on matter/anti-matter reactions for weapons, we'd have a hard time keeping the technology away from them. I'd almost rather it remain an unsolvable problem."

"Has the military gotten a hold of the arc reactor technology?" Bucky asked. "That'd strike me as bad enough on its own."

Tony made a face like he wasn't wanting to admit to something that was both true and untrue at the same time. "Sorta. They have a suit, Rhodey took off with it and they weaponized it, but they haven't run on a rampage of building stuff with the technology. SHIELD was still looking to the Tesseract to power their Phase II weapons, with no back up in place for using my arc reactor design. In fact, they never even asked me to consult on the issue." He took a drink. "But, then, SHIELD was Hydra, and Phase II were just old Hydra weapons they were trying to rebuild. They lost Zola's work, they hadn't figured out how to harness the Tesseract's energy to power the weapons when Loki showed up and took off with it."

Thor rejoined the conversation. "Zola? Who is Zola?"

When Tony didn't answer, and in fact looked pointedly at Bucky, Bucky sighed, deciding to provide the answer. "Doctor Arnim Zola was a chemical engineer who worked for Johann Schmidt, the founder of Hydra. He designed the weapons that ran on the Tesseract, and the machines that transferred energy from the Tesseract to the weapons. He's also the scientist that headed the Winter Soldier project." He shrugged. "In other words, he's nobody we like, and we're all glad that he's dead."

Thor looked almost sorry that he'd asked at all. "I do not often rejoice in someone's death, but I will now. The world does not miss him. Although, I must ask, are we sure he is dead?"

Bucky nodded. "Yeah, he's dead. Hydra had transferred his brain into a computer for awhile, but he got taken out when SHIELD tried to fire a missile at Steve and Natasha. Pierce told me point-blank that Steve and Natasha had cost him Zola. I think it was probably lucky for me at the time that I didn't remember the experiments, or Zola at all, because I might've had to celebrate, and I think that would've annoyed Pierce. I didn't like annoying him."

"I imagine not," Thor said. Then he frowned. "Are we certain he is dead, as well? I can change that, if not."

Bucky couldn't help but grin and chuckle a bit. "Thank you for the thought, but Natasha assures me that the last time she saw him, he was dead on the ground with a couple of bullets through the heart."

Thor grunted, taking a drink of his beer. "Good, and good riddance."

"No disagreement from any of us," Tony said. "It's been what, two years now since he and all of SHIELD went down?"

"Two years ago next mon-" Bucky cut himself off, counting off days in his mental calendar. "You son of a bitch, you brought Thor here because tomorrow's my birthday, didn't you?" he demanded, staring at Tony accusingly.

Tony sighed, a deep and theatrical sound, and looked at Thor. Thor shrugged in response, so Tony looked back at Bucky. "All right, yes, I did. You do not get to get out of having a birthday. We all have one, we all get to celebrate it, you are joining us in that. Relax, I'm not going all out, just your friends, some food, and a cake."

Bucky swore in Russian, grabbed his beer, and downed a healthy swallow of it. "You're all assholes," he grumbled. "And this is why Steve was trying to avoid me. He can't accidentally tell me if we're not around each other. Goddamnit."

"Would you relax?" Tony said. "I know you don't like being as old as you are, but we won't make an issue of the age. Age is just a number, especially with you. But we can damn well celebrate you being here at all, can't we?"

Bucky looked at him, trying to remain irritated, but having trouble doing it. "Thank you, now you're making me feel guilty about it."

"Do not feel guilty," Thor said. "You only saw the number attached to your birthday. Many do. Being upset by that number is nothing to feel guilt over. We wish to be with you to celebrate our friend's life, not our friend's age."

"Not helping with the guilt complex, Thor," Bucky said. "But thanks for showing up. Guess if I have to acknowledge my birthday, having my friend around is nice." He felt like an ass; he hadn't wanted his age even remotely brought up, which meant avoiding his birthday. But acting like his friends were terrible people for wanting to give him a birthday party wasn't particularly classy.

He wondered if Steve had tried to talk them out of it. He hoped so. Steve would understand why Bucky didn't like his birthday, because Steve didn't like his very much for the same reason. Some of the same reasons, anyway. Captain America's birthday falling on Independence Day was an accident of fate and that by itself irritated him.

"Cheer up," Tony said. "It means we care."

"I know," Bucky said, doodling again. He peered at Tony out of the corner of his eye. "There's nothing big planned, right?"

Tony shook his head. "Just friends, food, and a cake. We're having Italian, Cap said you liked it."

That made Bucky turn his head to look at Tony properly. "Steve hates Italian."

"So he said," Tony said. "He also said that you like it, and it's your birthday, you get the food you like. Brace yourself, we might get potatoes for his birthday."

"Certainly not good ol' American hamburgers and hot dogs," Bucky agreed. "He might say that as long as it's not Americana and there's no fireworks, he'll be happy."

Thor tilted his head. "Why would he believe that his friends would give him a birthday themed around his code name?"

While Tony started laughing probably louder than he should, Bucky bit back his own laughter so he could answer Thor. "Steve's birthday is on the fourth of July. Which is when America declared independence from England. Captain America was born on America's birthday. There's no escaping the patriotic theme for him."

Thor looked like he was desperately trying to not laugh too hard. "My deepest sympathies for him, then. That must be frustrating for him."

"You have no idea," Bucky said. Then he pointed at Tony. "But I mean it, no fireworks for him. Fireworks are artillery, we war vets don't like the sounds of artillery."

"Making note of that," Tony said. "Cap said that you don't want presents."

"That's right," Bucky said. "I don't need or want for much these days, and Christmas wasn't that long ago."

"Nothing you need? Not even socks?" Tony was really reaching there.

Bucky stared at him, silent, giving him a chance to retract that statement. Hearing no retraction coming, Bucky shook his head. "No, no socks. But thank you."

Tony made a frustrated noise. "You and your 'no needing or wanting' thing is annoying."

"I don't want to hear it, Mister Has Everything Already," Bucky said. "The only things I could get you for Christmas was attending a charity ball that got cut short and being impressed by your industrial kitchen."

"You can cook for my birthday," Tony said. "Your food is fabulous."

"I'll keep that in mind," Bucky said, looking back at his book. He tapped a finger on it for a second, then pulled the work phone out of his pocket.

"Checking for messages?" Tony asked, looking over Bucky's shoulder.

Bucky shook his head. "Texting Steve to tell him he's an asshole."

Thor drew his attention briefly as he got up and headed for the bar. "That is unfair of you," he said. "The captain was merely trying to keep a gift a secret. Gifts are not fun if you know what they are ahead of time."

Bucky paused mid-text, staring at Thor. "I hate that you're right," he said, then canceled the text.

Thor smiled, a small smile that didn't look entirely genuine. "That is something I said many times growing up with my brother." He pointed at Tony. "I'll not hear any disparaging remarks about him. He died the man he was in our youth, and I would prefer to remember him that way."

Tony looked at him over his shoulder. "I didn't know he died. When was this?"

"During the Convergence," Thor said, returning to the couch with a fresh beer. "He was killed protecting Jane and I."

Tony frowned, making a thoughtful noise. "Sorry to hear that. I'll keep my mouth shut about it, I guess."

Bucky wondered if a miracle had just occurred.

* * *

"Tony, you know he hates this music," Pepper said, sitting down at the prepared table in the ballroom.

Tony looked at her over his Coke can, then set it down, making a point of listening to a few words from the Bon Jovi classic. "I don't see why," he said. Then he flashed her a grin. "I'll have JARVIS turn it off when they get here. In the meantime, I'm enjoying my music."

Pepper shook her head, smiling, then took his Coke and took a drink.

"Please," he said, taking it back once she'd set it down. "Your manners are atrocious, Miss Potts."

Pepper rested her forearms on the table, watching the entrance to the ballroom that led to the elevators. "I'm still not entirely sure why you go to such lengths for those two," she said. "Maybe less so Bucky than Steve. They're proving good on their word, but you seem more enthusiastic about maintaining your friendship with them than I think you should be."

This again. It wasn't an argument they had, not as far as arguments went. Not since Bucky and Cap had covered his butt in Syria, anyway. But it was still a thorn in Pepper's paw, so it remained one in Tony's ass.

"I'm challenging them," Tony said. "I think I've said this before, but you like to keep asking. I want to see them appreciate what I do. I want to see them willing to do just as much back. They haven't let me down so far. And I can still trust them to save my life, so that's something."

"That's something," she agreed. She sighed. "Tony, you might get disappointed this time, you know that, right? Steve was pretty unconvinced that this was a good idea. I'm not sure how enthusiastic Bucky's going to be to your party." She looked at the table of food that the caterers were finishing putting out.

The far end held the cake, a small thing that would probably end up going to Bucky for his sweets reserves, but the surrounding cupcakes would more than make up for the tiny cake. They were frosted in a dark blue.

"Why blue?" he asked her, and when she looked at him blankly, he motioned to the cake and cupcakes.

"Oh, that. Steve said that was Bucky's favorite color. That's why he chose that blue coat he wore during the war."

"Mm." Tony knocked back another swallow of his Coke. "You know, it's weird, looking at pictures of him then, and seeing him now. It's the same face, same age, but it's different. Must be the hair."

Pepper looked at him, looking like she was lost in thought rather than studying him directly, then patted his shoulder. "You know neither of us look exactly the same anymore, either."

At first he didn't answer, making the conscious choice to not follow where her words were pointing him, decided to put that on the backburner. "That's not true. You are beautiful as ever."

That made her smile and roll her eyes before kissing him lightly. "Flattery becomes you, when you're flattering me," she said. She looked up at the others; Sharon and Maria were talking, Tony couldn't hear what, and Thor was sliding Mjolnir back and forth between his hands on the table.

Seriously, couldn't that man go five minutes without it? "Hey, Thor, that's not much of a party favor, you know that?" Tony called over to him, motioning to the hammer.

Thor stopped playing with it and looked at him. "Would you rather I have left it in my room, and if trouble arose, it had to crash through walls to find me?" Smug bastard.

"You win this round."

"Thor just outwitted you?" Bucky said, and Tony looked over at the entryway to see both Cap and Bucky heading towards the table. Bucky was walking slower, eyeing the food and the cake.

"He did not," Tony said. "Some greeting from the birthday boy." He got up, leaving his Coke unprotected from Pepper- who proved he shouldn't have done that by taking the rest of it for herself -and walked around the table to meet them. "See the spread? All for you. Cap said blue was your favorite color. You can thank Pepper for finding this detail out and passing it onto the bakers."

Bucky looked happy, the smile was here, but something was missing in his eyes, and Tony didn't like that. Wasn't even sure he saw it, actually. Bucky looked around Tony to wave at Pepper. "Thanks, Pepper."

"Happy birthday," she said, setting down Tony's Coke can with a hollow sound that said she'd finished it off. She looked genuinely happy, at least, despite the conversation that they'd had for the 4.013x10^27 time. She liked Steve and Bucky, Tony was certain of that much, she just was still dealing with their underhanded deceit.

She dealt with things her way, Tony dealt with things his. They got along pretty well, despite that.

"Thanks," Bucky said again, then immediately got sidetracked by Maria taking her turn at greeting the birthday boy. "Hey, a pretty lady just walked up to me. Must be my lucky day."

"Keep flattering me and it might be an even better day," Maria replied, then hugged him. "Just don't let your imagination get away with you. It won't be _that_ good of a day."

Bucky laughed, leaving his metal arm around her waist, and Tony idly wondered how comfortable that could possibly be. "Life is always entertaining with you around, Maria."

Tony watched while Sharon attached herself to Steve, but not before giving Bucky a bright smile and a 'happy birthday', and Maria motion Bucky towards Thor.

"He's been playing with that thing, waiting for you," Maria said. Bucky walked over to Thor.

Thor had an eyebrow raised at all this, having been apparently waiting patiently for his turn to say 'happy birthday' to their senior citizen friend. "Idle habits are not exclusive to Asgardians," he said, folding his arms on the table, the hammer still in front of him.

Bucky reached out with his left hand to push the hammer away and it just clanged loudly against it. Tony choked on a laugh. Bucky frowned at the oft-thought of as annoying weapon. "Your stupid hammer defies the laws of physics and that offends my sensibilities."

Thor did not look one tiny bit sorry for that. "It was forged in the heart of a dying star," he said.

"Yeah, about that," Bucky said, looking at the hammer with that same annoyed scowl. "What kind of star? A white dwarf? A supernova? Not a black hole, that star's already gone and dead."

"A star on the verge of a supernova," Thor answered without missing a beat. "The star was far too large to merely form a white dwarf."

Tony couldn't help but laugh at the bewildered look on Bucky's face. "His girlfriend's an astrophysicist," he said. "He's picked up a thing or two."

Bucky looked at Thor. "I approve."

Thor chuckled. "I did not realize I needed your approval."

"You don't," Bucky said. "But you have it anyway." He looked around. "I'm guessing Bruce and our other Odd Couple are just late? Or were they not invited?"

"You wound me to think that I'd leave out Bruce," Tony said. "Or the other two. This is an Avengers party. We're all invited. Plus, you got presents coming, and I told those three to be here before the presents were."

Bucky stared at him. "If you got me socks, I don't know if I can keep from chucking them at your head."

Tony did nothing more than to give him a bland smile.

Bruce showed up next, apologizing for his tardiness. "I lost track of time," he said. "JARVIS had to remind me. Happy birthday, Bucky."

Bucky waved. "Thanks, Bruce. Don't worry about being late, I almost was, too."

Bruce tilted his head down, looking at Bucky over his glasses. "You were almost late for your own birthday party?"

Bucky shrugged. "I got caught up in the positron production problem. I was just tooling around." Tony frowned, getting up and fetching himself another Coke from the beverages section of the catering table. Bucky worked on that problem when he was slammed up against another problem, he'd said so himself the day before. And there was that odd expression in his eyes that hadn't gone away once since coming into the room. Tony wished he knew what it was there for. If he had to guess, it was the age thing, but he felt like there was more to it than that.

He might corner Bucky later about it, if he could navigate them away from Pepper and Cap's watchful gazes.

"Excuse me, sirs and madams," JARVIS said. "But Agent Romanov and Agent Barton are currently on escort duty. They will be here momentarily."

"Excellent," Tony said. He grabbed another Coke for Pepper. "Here, one just for you." He sat back down. "Take a seat, birthday boy. Your gift's on the way."

Bucky blinked, wide-eyed for a second, then he squinted at Tony in a distinctly suspicious fashion. "My presents have to be escorted by Natasha and Clint? Who the hell did you drag in?"

"You'll see," Tony said, making sure his Coke was away from Pepper, despite the fact that she had her own. Tricksey woman might find a way to steal his anyway.

Bucky looked about ready to cross his arms before Maria grabbed his left arm and looped it over her shoulders. "I personally supervised Tony's choice in presents," she assured him. "It won't be anything bad."

Steve raised his eyebrows at her. "_You_ personally oversaw that?"

Tony just laughed.

"I have a feeling the truth is a bit pliable in this group," Bucky said, looking between them all. "You're all in on this?"

"That stands to reason," Bruce said. "We were all together when this was planned."

Tony could see Bucky's brain wheels spinning, and he had a feeling that Bucky had figured out the 'presents' were Peter and Sam, or at _least_ Peter. He probably hadn't figured out about Sam. But Bucky was being kind and letting them pretend to have the element of surprise, and Tony took that for what it was.

"Happy birthday, you old fart," an elderly voice said from behind Bucky.

Tony leaned over to try to see who had spoken, and when Bucky moved to face the speaker, Tony could only assume the old man he saw was Peter. It was either the old white guy, or the younger black guy, and Tony had a hunch it was probably the old white guy. Which mean that the other guy was Sam Wilson.

Natasha and Clint passed their escort missions to join the others at the table.

Bucky shot Tony a dirty look. "I didn't want him to meet you guys. He's too old for your shit."

Peter made a rude sounding noise that Tony almost applauded him for. "If I'm too old, so are you. Hi to you, too."

Tony had a sudden brain disconnect, watching Bucky- a man looking only thirty -hugging a man who looked much older and realizing that the old man was younger than Bucky. Peter was too old to look like he was even related to Bucky, except as an older uncle or something, maybe.

It was freaking weird, that's what it was.

After Bucky had let him go, Peter reached down and picked up a bag he'd set down to hug his brother. Bucky eyed the bag. "What's in the bag?"

Tony could only hear Brad Pitt saying "what's in the booooooox?"

"Something you get later," Peter said. "After food. Now stop being a rude guest of honor and say hi to Sam."

"I don't need my little brother to boss me around," Bucky snapped, but Tony noticed that he turned to Sam anyway. He held out his hand. "I'm sorry if you had to listen to this little jackass the whole trip up."

Sam took his hand laughing. "I'd say it was enlightening, but he didn't have any stories from when you were young to embarrass you with."

"He'd be a liar if he did," Bucky said. "Please tell me that having your charming ass around is my present? Tony was threatening me with socks."

"Naw, just me," Sam said. "And one little old brother with a bag that he won't tell anyone what's in it."

"Hey, guys, come sit down to talk, bring everyone in on this," Tony said, waving them over. "Better idea, Peter, put that bag down, let's do introductions, then everyone get food. The smell has been driving my stomach crazy, waiting for all of you to show up."

"Do you think with your stomach?" Bucky demanded, following the others over to the table.

"Not normally," Tony said. "If it was your food, I wouldn't have waited for introductions, though."

Things went smoothly after that, if Tony did say so himself, and he did, and so it went smoothly. QED.

Cap was the only one not enthusiastic about the food, but he certainly packed quite a bit of it away for not liking it much. Pepper had done an extraordinary job at finding the best caterer with the best Italian food in town, as he expected. She did everything extraordinarily. He said as much, and was met with agreements from everyone.

Including her.

Typical.

"All right, let's see these presents," Tony said, peering over at Peter, as if he might see over the table to the bag hidden somewhere under Peter's chair.

"They're not presents," Peter said. "Not except the monthly Dresden Files book." He dug into the bag by his feet and handed the book over to Bucky.

Bucky took it, reading the back cover. "You know," he said, not looking up from the book. "It might be nice to get more than one a month, you old brat. I can read them faster than that."

"Tough titties," Peter said, and Tony nearly choked on his drink. The others seemed to find it funnier that Tony had nearly killed himself than Peter's language that didn't seem to match a man his age. Peter looked at him. "I didn't kill you, did I, Mister Stark?"

Tony shook his head, coughing. "No, no, not at all. Please, continue Mister Former Military."

"You young people think we old people don't know how to swear," Peter said. Then he heaved a deep sigh, grabbing the bag and putting it on his lap. He pulled a wooden shadowbox with a pointed top, like it was a triangle resting on a rectangle. He set it in front of Bucky. "That's yours." He handed Cap another. "I didn't want to chance the younger generations getting their hands on them when I die. They belong to you two."

Tony leaned forward, trying to see what was in the shadowboxes. Cap and Bucky had gone unnaturally still and quiet, staring at them. Finally, Tony's curiosity compelled him to speak up instead of waiting. "What are they?"

Peter set the bag down out of the way. "Their burial flags," he said. "Mom and Dad petitioned the VA for them in the sixties, when the other MIA war vets from the second world war were declared KIA. For some reason, Steve and my brother were never declared KIA, so we couldn't get their medals, but we bought shadowboxes that had a place for those medals anyway."

Something in Tony's stomach dropped like a lead weight. Burial flags. Proof of death of a soldier. And Cap and Bucky were holding them, signs of their own deaths. Two of the strongest men Tony knew were staring at the flags as if life had stopped the second they'd seen them. Like they were mourning old friends who were gone and buried, and Tony was suddenly very uncomfortable, watching Bucky have to tilt his head back, taking unsteady breaths, and Cap just swallowing tightly, eyes wet.

Tony felt like it was finally sinking in why Cap had tried to talk the Avengers out of giving Bucky a birthday party. Because time wasn't something they wanted to acknowledge.

He suddenly felt a bit guilty for forcing the party issue.

Bucky looked over at Cap's shadowbox in his hand. "You have a place to put your stupid Medal Of Honor," he said, sounding like he was grasping for something to change the mood.

Cap laughed, rubbing his eyes. "And you have a place for all your purple hearts."

"Shut up," Bucky grumbled, then took a breath. "Thank you, Peter, but you didn't have to do this for awhile. You're not dying any day soon."

Peter didn't change his solemn expression. "Bucky, I'm eighty-seven this year. Time's gonna find me sooner or later, and at this age, sooner is more likely than later. I'm not planning anything, I just wanted to make sure those got to where they belonged."

Bucky's attempt at changing the mood was apparently failing. Tony kept quiet, looking at the others, who were all trying to look like they weren't paying attention as intently as they were.

Tony couldn't take it anymore, and he knew Cap and Bucky were probably feeling uncomfortable, so he spoke up with the first thing that popped into his head. "There's more cupcakes up there, if anyone wants one before the caterers clear the tables."

Wasn't the smoothest thing he'd ever said, but it did the trick, attention taken off Cap and Bucky, some people going up to the tables. Cap and Bucky returned the shadowboxes to the bag, along with Bucky's new book, and Peter took it over to sit by the entryway to the elevators to be taken up to Cap and Bucky's apartment.

The party turned to mingling as the caterers cleared the remaining food, conversation taking over the mood and turning it lighter. But Bucky still had that odd look in his eyes, and Tony was starting to understand why.

Peter announced at about eight that it'd be late if he didn't leave for home, and Sam agreed. Tony had JARVIS contact the waiting driver to get the car. The rest of the guests talked about moving up to the penthouse for drinks. Bucky said he'd meet everyone, he was going to drop the bag his brother gave them off at their apartment.

Tony sidled up to Sharon. "Keep Cap distracted, would ya?" he said, voice down to _sotto voce_. "I want to talk to Bucky, but I don't want protective little brother hovering over our shoulders."

Sharon blinked her pretty brown eyes at him - not as pretty as Pepper's blue eyes, but they were still nice. Cap was a lucky man. "Should I let you talk to him without little brother around?" she asked, not sounding terribly serious in that accusation.

Tony gave her a dirty look. "I'm checking on a friend. I just don't want Cap chasing me off in the name of not upsetting Bucky. Okay? That's it. I promise."

"Consider it done," Sharon said. She caught up with Cap as the group headed towards the elevators, and looped her arm around his. "Escort a lady?"

Cap looked at her with a smile. "I think I can manage that."

Good. Problem solved.

There were too many people for one elevator, so they split up. Tony took a final one- he could've fit in the second, but then he'd be obvious about following Bucky instead of joining the others.

Pepper thwarted him in going up alone.

"So what are you up to?" she asked.

He could see her watching him out of the corner of his eye. "Pepper, I think I screwed up. I think this party was a bad idea and I screwed up. I didn't think, I thought age was just a number. I think the party, having his brother over, the whole age thing, I think it was a mistake. I'm just going to talk to him, sort it out. If I screwed up, I want to apologize. If I didn't, I want to know."

Pepper didn't answer at first, then sighed, leaning her head on his shoulder briefly. "Go see him. I'll cover for you with the others."

He kissed her. "You're an angel." The elevator dinged at a residential floor, and he got off, leaving Pepper to go on to the penthouse without him. He went down the hall to number ten, with Rogers-Barnes engraved on the front door. He refrained from having JARVIS announce him and just knocked.

It took about fifteen seconds before the door opened. Bucky looked as he had earlier, a good look on his face, but an odd one in his eyes. "You know I can find my way from here to the penthouse on my own, right?"

"I'm not here to be your escort," Tony said. "Mind if I come in? I wanna talk a minute."

"Only a minute?" Bucky said, eyebrows raised, but stepped back to let him in.

Tony shrugged, walking in past him. "Might be longer," he admitted. Once the door was shut, he turned back to Bucky. "So wanna talk about what's wrong? You didn't look terribly happy about having all your friends and brother around."

Bucky didn't look as surprised as Tony would've liked him to. He knew exactly what Tony was talking about, which meant Tony was right, something was wrong. For once, Tony actually hated being right. "What the hell are you talk-"

"Don't insult my intelligence," Tony interrupted. "I'm kinda learning to read you. Your heart wasn't in any of those smiles you gave us today. So what was it?"

Bucky didn't look terribly happy about being cornered, but he didn't argue, just looked down at the ground. "It's not that I'm not grateful for the party," he said. "And I need more reasons to see my brother. He's getting old, there's-" A deep, shuddering breath cut him off. He closed his eyes, swallowed, and tried again. "I should be seeing him as much as I can, you gave me a reason. Thank you."

Tony looked away, stared at the bag with the burial flags by the hallway entrance. He'd never seen either Cap or Bucky cry, and Bucky was on the verge of it. He wasn't sure how to react. Soldiers didn't cry, did they?

That wasn't fair of him, he knew it.

"I'd say 'you're welcome', but I think that making you cry isn't something I should be saying that too," Tony said.

"I'm not crying," Bucky protested, rubbing his flesh fingers over his eyes. "It's just been a long day, that's all."

"And that's a lie," Tony said. "Look, I'm not Cap, but I think I made a mistake, having that party, and I want to know if I should apologize or not. Throw me a bone here. Talk to me."

Bucky stared at him, then looked down at the ground. "It- no, it wasn't a mistake. Any excuse for all of us to get together is a good one. It's just... my brother." He took in a deep breath. "My youngest brother is dying of old age and I'm not." Bucky couldn't possibly get away with lying that he wasn't crying anymore. "It's nothing that you did wrong, you don't have to apologize."

Tony reach out and put his hand on Bucky's shoulder, pausing when he realized it was the metal shoulder. "Talk. You need to."

Bucky shook his head. "It's nothing I haven't said before," he said. "I'll be fine."

"Talk."

"Stubborn bastard," Bucky snarled, although that snarl sounded more like a kitten whining. "Have you harassed Steve this way?"

"He hasn't given me reason to," Tony said. He dropped his arm. "Not where I could see it."

Bucky rubbed his forehead. "It's just hard, that's all. Another few years and Peter will be gone. Another year at most and Steve and I will be the last two living World War II vets. Everyone will be gone. Except us. Kinda lonely sometimes, that's all."

Tony couldn't tell if that meant he'd made a mistake or not, but that didn't matter. "I'm a mechanic," he said. "I build things. It's what I do. But mechanics fix things, too. So how can I fix this?"

Bucky looked at him like he couldn't believe he'd heard what Tony said, then he shook his head. "Even if you could build a time machine, it wouldn't fix anything, Tony. What is, is." He smiled, a bit lopsided. "But thank you. You've already done way more than you needed to." He motioned towards the apartment. "Just next time, let me make the food. That'd be a better gift than the party itself."

"Done," Tony said. "Your food is better, anyway." After taking a second to decide that Bucky still looked presentable and didn't need a moment to go wash his face and collect himself, he grabbed the doorknob. "Hey. You got a whole team to talk to. That includes me. And tell that to Cap too, wouldja? You got our backs, we got yours. That's what a team like us does."

Bucky smiled, the first real one Tony had seen all day. "You're all annoying," he said. "Come on, I want a drink. Stop blocking my door."

"Charming, as always," Tony said, opening the door and stepping out.

"You have no room to talk," Bucky said, following him out and shutting the door. The door lock clicked behind them.

"There's always room for me to talk," Tony said. "Now, you said something about a drink, and I'm inclined to agree. We've got friends waiting to share those with us."


End file.
